


Dodgeball

by DefectivelyFlawless



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Joffrey is a dick, Jon and Sansa Are Not Related, Protectiveness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2017-07-22
Packaged: 2018-12-05 14:19:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11579808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DefectivelyFlawless/pseuds/DefectivelyFlawless
Summary: 'Despite being so awfully unathletic that it hurts to watch, I still want you on my team because you're the most beautiful woman I have ever seen in my life.'In which Jon is team captain and cares more about Sansa being on his team than winning the actual game.





	Dodgeball

**Author's Note:**

> This is just to bid my time for the new episode to come, the time is literally so long.  
> Reviews are still welcome. 
> 
> Sara.

Jon was in the boys changing room, putting on his uniform when Grenn came striding towards him with an eager expression on his face, already changed into his kit (composed of standard black shorts and white t- shirt with the school logo on it).

"Jon," Grenn's deep voice echoed throughout the room, making the other guys turn and give him a dirty look.

Jon sighed, just wanting to get changed in peace and quiet. The locker room was rowdy enough as it is, and Jon wanted a few seconds in silence.

"Yes, Grenn?" he asked, pulling his own white shirt over his head, his dark curls falling across his forehead. He ran his hand through his hair, pushing it back while looking at Green expectantly.

"Coach says we're doing dodgeball this time," he grins, his eyes lighting up in excitement.

Jon smiles at that, a bubble of anticipation building up in his stomach. He liked dodgeball, it was always fun and as captain of the school football team, Jon always got to pick who was on his team. His competitive edge kicked in, he had a desire to show the other team that his was always better.

"Sounds good. So, you ready to lose then...again," Jon smirks, tying up the laces on his shoes.

"Not a chance, Snow. This time you'll lose, I guarantee you. You're becoming too smug, and smug people always make mistakes," Grenn promises while pointing a finger at Jon.

"We'll see," he gives a short laugh. Finishing tying up the other shoe, Jon stands up from the bench and goes over to Sam who was standing by the door, looking nervously towards the girls changing rooms on the other side.

"Hey, Sam. Nervous?" Jon questions glancing at Sam's expression.

"Not for me," he mumbles quietly.

"You're worried about Gilly then?" Jon asks with a sly smirk.

Sam nods. "I just hope she doesn't get hit too hard. You know how the other guys can be during this game," he points.

Jon scowls. He _does_ know how other people played during this game, especially when they become violent. He remembered how one girl had a broken nose from getting hit in the face, and another boy who had to be rushed to hospital.

"Don't worry, she'll be fine. She knows how to play, remember," he comforts placing a hand on Sam's shoulder before walking through the double doors, immediately hit with the general echoing of trainers on shiny floor and yelling of teenagers.

"Okay guys, gather round!" Coach Mormont bellowed out.

The students, a mix of both boys and girls, shuffled into a collective group in front of the coach and the murmuring died out. Jon stood near the back of the group, next to Sam and Grenn.

"We're doing dodgeball today," the coach said, a whistle hung around his neck.

There was a joint groan from half the group and a round of excitement from the other half. Jon smiled at the sound. A flash of red hair caught the corner of his eyes, and turning to the side, he saw a tall girl with her arms crossed, and a displeased expression written across her face.

Jon' breath hitched, knowing she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen despite the dreary school kit she was donned in. He hoped that he did not make a fool of himself in front of her.

Jon looked away from her when the Coach called his name out, establishing him as one of the team captains. Jon stepped to the right side of Coach Mormont while Joffrey Baratheon took the other side. A rush of dislike ran through him, and Jon smirked, knowing it was going to be satisfying, wiping the arrogant and smug countenance away from the other boy.

"Joffrey picks first," the Coach says.

The picking of teams soon began, with the athletic students chosen first. Joffrey chose the biggest and strongest of the group, relying on strength whilst Jon, with careful consideration chose the most agile and quick students. A few more kids were picked and naturally it came down to the less sporty students.

Jon was carefully judging on who to pick when he caught a glimpse of the red-haired girl in the back with an anxious expression. Jon smiled softly to himself and sighed internally, and possibly externally because Theon who stood next to him, looked at him confused.

Despite knowing there was at least three more decent players, Jon closed his eyes briefly as Joffrey picked his player. Theon was looking at him expectantly when it reached his turn again, but Jon ignored this and focused his eyes on the girl.

"Sansa," he called out looking directly at her.

Sansa herself stopped shuffling her toes nervously, and looked up when she heard his voice. She felt shocked at being picked even though she wasn't good at physical sports. Her blue eyes widened and she walked over to Jon when she noticed him motioning her towards him.

"I'm not any good at this, Jon," she leans over and whispers softly his in ear.

Jon tenses up, a shiver running down his spine as her breath hit his ear. "Don't worry, Sansa. It's just a game, nothing to take too seriously."

Sansa glanced at him thankfully, and gave him a soft smile. Jon smiled back awkwardly, knowing his pulse rate was increasing and not for the game.

"Alright teams let's go. And nothing too aggressive. It's only a game." Coach said, a warning tone to his words.

Looking over, Jon saw Joffrey smirk in anticipation and he let out a groan. The blonde-haired boy did not know the meaning of easy, judging by the amount of people he got taken to medical after a game.

* * *

 

Jon had never hated dodgeball more in his life. Not only was a quarter of his team already sitting on the benches but Joffrey was being _vicious_. He threw the balls so hard they felt like rocks. The blonde was not out yet due to the heavy muscle set guys that were surrounding him, protecting him from Jon's throws, making it impossible to hit him.

The only comfort he got was that at least Sansa was not hit yet. He had specifically placed her in a position in which he would get to the balls before it hit her. She was stood behind Jon, her fists clenched and a fearful look on her face as she tried to dodge the ball coming her way.

However, at this moment Jon had moved to the side to grab another ball, leaving Sansa unprotected. He saw that as soon as he left her, Joffrey grabbed a ball from one of the other guys on his team and was aiming to throw it at her face. Jon was moving before he realised what he was doing. He threw himself in front of her.

The dodgeball slammed against his face, and the momentum sent him backwards, his head hitting the hard floor. The gym went silent, before Sansa screamed his name. He could hear a ringing in his ears as he tried to lift himself into a sitting position. 

"JON!"

He could hear a flurry of voices around him, each one panicking in fear. Opening his eyes, he caught a flash of red above him. The blurred face cleared up, and he saw Sansa's terrified expression peering down on him with tearful blue eyes.

"Sansa," he groans out, her face being the only thing he could concentrate on.

"Yes, Jon I'm here. You're going to be alright," she whispers comfortingly, brushing Jon's hair out of his eyes.

The coach came rushing over, kneeling beside him. "Snow, are you okay?"

"I'll be fine, coach. I'm okay to carry on," he sits up slowly.

"Are you sure, Snow? You hit your head pretty hard on the ground,"he points out.

"No, I'm fine. It wasn't that hard," he argues.

The coach looked at him for a few seconds and then nods, motioning for everyone else to get back into the game. Jon looks over at Joffrey's smug face, feeling a rush of anger pulsing through him as he realises the same thing could have happened to Sansa. He would _not_ let that happen, he vowed to himself.

During the rest of the game, Jon had aimed at Joffrey as his main target. Much to his satisfaction, he had managed to throw a ball which hit him in the balls. He smirked as he saw the boy limping towards the bench with a grimaced expression.

He found it easier to win after that. The other guys on Joffrey's team looked confused on what to do after their leader had disappeared, making them an easy target to hit judging by their size as well.

Overall Jon was happy, especially as Sansa had squealed in excitement when their team won. She had rushed over to give him a hug, a wide beam on her face.

That was the most thrilling experience in his opinion. Not even winning the game.

* * *

 

 Jon was putting his books in his locker when he saw Joffrey storm past him, steam practically coming out of his ears.

"What..." he trailed off, glancing over his shoulder to spot Sansa near her own locker, fiddling with it and wiping and her eyes softly.

Jon frowned, feeling a pang in his chest and walked over to where Sansa was standing.

"Hey, you okay?" he asked quietly.

Sansa startled, snapped her head up and nodded when she saw Jon looking at her with a concerned expression.

With a glimpse at her watery brown eyes her, he pressed further, "You sure?"

Sansa sighed and shrugged. "Joffrey can be annoying at times."

Jon almost saw red, knowing the arrogant prick had said something to her to make her cry. Her tears almost made him cry.

"What did he say?" he let out a growl, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

"It's okay, Jon. You don't have to worry about it," she shook her head, closing her locker door and turning away from him.

He grabbed her forearm and pulled her towards him. "Hey, I will worry about it. You're my friend, Sansa. Your problem is my problem," he claimed.

Sansa hesitates for a second before letting out a sigh. "He just called me a whore. He said I was a stupid little girl whom no one would ever like," she looks down in sadness.

Jon's fists clenched, his fingers drawing into his palms as his eyes blazed in anger. "I'm going kill him," he let out through gritted teeth.

Sansa grabs him by the arm before he could storm off and beat Joffrey Baratheon to a bloody pulp. "Don't go beating him up over it. He's just angry because I refused to go out with him," she explained.

"Then he's a boy with hurt feelings who cannot take it when a beautiful girl turns him down," he snarls.

Sansa pauses and gives him a smile. "You think I'm beautiful?" her imploring blue eyes boring into his dark eyes.

"Of course, I do. I would be blind not to notice," he says with furrowed eyebrows.

Did Sansa not believe she was beautiful? She was the most beautiful girl Jon had ever seen. He had never hated Joffrey Baratheon as much as he did in that moment.

She closed her mouth for a second, her cheeks turning pink and then gave Jon a soft smile, her eyes lightning up with joy. It knocked the breath out of him for a second, making it impossible to focus on anything else but her smile.

"Thank you, Jon. He's just upset that our team won with me on it," Sansa shrugged.

Jon gave a wince; he wanted to tell Sansa that she was not _that_ bad knew it would have been in vain. She was awfully unathletic.

Sansa notices his struggle to say something and snorts. "Don't worry I know I'm bad. My sister Arya has pointed it out many times; I'm not an athletic person because I'm a writer. I like reading and writing stories instead of running or kicking footballs."

Jon smiled, his eyes lit up in wonder. "You have to show me some of your stories sometimes. I'd love to read them," he implores.

"I'll tell you what, you keep protecting me from the balls and I'll show you some of my stories," she laughs.

Jon would do it even if she did not show him her stories. Protecting her during the game has become more exciting for him than the actual game.

* * *

 

Jon was still sore from his training earlier that day so he did not want to play.

"Come on, Jon! It'll be fun," Sam tried to encourage him.

"I'm already so tired. Why do I have to do this again? I'd rather be having a shower," he moans out loud, his head buried deep in his locker.

"Because Sansa will be there," Pyp said slyly, walking up to the duo with a smirk. "And you don't want to miss out on seeing her, do you lover boy?"

He rolled his eyes, rushing ahead towards the court to avoid his friends seeing his flushed cheeks. He was gratefully saved by Coach Mormont blowing his whistle.

"Today we're doing dodgeball again! Seeing as it's the last few weeks before summer, there's no point starting a new type of sport. So, captains take your spots and chose your players," he announces, ignoring the groans of the students.

Joffrey kept glancing at Sansa and Jon did not like it. He could feel the beast inside him roaring in anger at the leering look he kept throwing her.

"Sansa, you're with me," he beckoned her towards him, glimpsing at the fuming look on Joffrey's face.

"Thanks," Sansa sighs in relief, giving him a grateful look.

"Just keep behind me and I won't let him hurt you, just like I promised," he whispered towards her.

She blushed, looking down before nodding a soft smile upon her face.

For the next two weeks of dodgeball, Jon had been adamant on Sansa being on his team. He wasn't even thinking when the Coach picked him as team captain; he always picked Sansa. Her name was always the first name he called out during the game, and he ignored the incredulous glances from the rest of the team.

When Theon once complained, Jon had given him a look so fierce that he hadn't dared voice a complaint again.

He cared about Sansa being on his team more than he cared about winning the actual game. 

* * *

 

Jon was stood next to his car in the school parking spot, his forehead pressed against the cool metal. He had just finished training and could barely keep his eyes open.

He didn't hear the footsteps approaching him. He felt a hand on his shoulder and glanced up to peer at Sansa's concerned face.

"Jon? What are you still doing here, after school hours? Everyone else has gone home," she frowns worriedly.

"It's fine Sansa, I was just taking a quick rest. Anyways what are you doing here?" he stands up straight from his previous position.

Sansa clutches the books in her arms closer to her chest. "Oh, I was just doing an extra study session with the teacher."

"Hoping to get extra for your university applications," he smiles, liking the way she cared about her education.

"Yes, but here's hoping I do," she gives a short laugh.

They both go silent for a few seconds and then Sansa opens her mouth to talk.

"Jon, why do you always pick me for your team? I could just sit out like I have been doing for the past two years," she glances curiously at him.

Jon could feel his nerves growing slowly. He felt as if he was chocking. He couldn't do it. All he had to admit was that he had feelings for Sansa. Why was it so hard all of a sudden?

He felt his skin pricking as he saw her blue eyes look pleadingly into his, and then he snapped.

"Fuck it," he lets out and grabs both her arms pulling her towards him, connecting his lips with hers.

Jon has never felt so awake all of a sudden.

She let out a small gasp before melting into his lips and letting out a small moan. Her hands came up to run themselves in Jon's hair and she pressed up into Jon's lips, firmly.

He smiled against them before, breaking away to look into her daze filled eyes. "I know you're bad at sports but I still pick you for my team because I know you're the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, and I want to take you out sometime," he explains with a grin.

"Like a date?" she teases.

Jon nods giving out short laugh.

"Well in that case, how could I say no to a guy who threw himself in front of a dodgeball for me," she beams.

"So, that"s a yes?"

"Yes, you idiot," she laughs happily, and then moves forward to capture lips again.

**Author's Note:**

> Despite being a lazy person and hating exercise, I love playing sports: football in particular. (Not American Football)


End file.
